OH SHIT NIGGA. You are lady Firemane. Of the (formerly) noble house of Fireborn! You were once the greatest wagon racer this side of the kingdom. Sadly due to shenanigans, you lost everything and went into debt with the Adventurer's Guild in order to survive. But then you found the Inexperienced Hero, Ezekiel "Kid" Rutebega ! You took him under your wing to mold him into the hero he's always meant to be: your devoted apprentice (probably)
Ezekiel's older brother has started his campaign of destruction, he leads his hordes of undead barbarians to ravage the lands. As members of the guild, your party has went on the quest chain to stop said undead barbarian horde.
You've just cleared out a major Barbarian encampment, stopping their siege on a nearby city. Currently the party is basking in victory.
You possess an amount of Strain equal to your Conditioning score. When attempting actions beyond your current capacity, you gain a point of Strain. Attempting to Strain while at maximum Strain will result in a Strain Check. During a Strain Check, roll 1d10 for every point of the relevant Parameter. Results that are 6 or above count as one success. Results of 10 count as two successes. Three successes must be rolled to avert a critical failure. Fail or pass, after a Strain Check, you cannot Strain again until you restore your Strain by seeking shelter.
<span class="mu-s">This quest allows you to designate a second-choice vote on decisions with three or more options before Write-Ins.</span> When votes are totaled, the option with the least votes for it will be removed, with votes for that option instead being changed to the second-choice of those voters. Second-choice votes are also used to break ties. This helps increase the accuracy of votes, but is not mandatory. Please specifically mark your second-choice as such if you do so.
Vote stay open for a minimum of six hours, but will usually take longer.
A note: My writing style is pretty dry, but don't mistake that for it being serious.
You’ve lived in that shadow for your whole life, tarnished by your father’s sins and misdeeds. But he lived in a shadow of his own, as had his father before him. Your entire family has carried the same burden, your blood poisoned by the taint of ancient decadence and illicit affairs. Rot, as Elle’s prophecy claimed, spreads from the tree’s roots. Not for the first time, you wonder how your father felt about it. Did he turn and flee from his tainted lineage, or did he embrace it? And what of you, what will you do?
Outside your bedroom window, the dense forest waits like a symbol of everything within your heart – one of the crude metaphors that your father used in the dreary poetry of his youth. Dark and dense though it may be, you finally know the path that leads to its heart. You know what awaits you within, a secret entrance to the Demesne and your lost sister. Yet, faced with this reunion, with the other half of your soul, you’ve hesitated.
What are you afraid of?
The forest is not empty, not without life. You know this now. You’ve seen the strange creature living within it, yet you feel no fear. Even knowing how the creature was able to lift Daniel aloft and throw him about like a doll, you know that it means you no harm.
The time is ripe! The mortals scattered the relics we gave them, none of the guardians are worthy. Find the relics, build us a temple, place them there and have the mortals worship us again! - says the elder god council
you are a minor deity! the major deities all keep bossing you around
You have 200 points to distribute in your stats
The stats are
Strength Hability Resistance Armor Firepower
Air Earth Fire Water Light Darkness
Extra Hitpoints + 10 (1 point each time you pick) Extra Mana points + 10 (1 point each time you pick)
You have base hp = resistance * 5 You have base mp = resistance * 5
Up to 5 points each stat costs 1 point per point (that is level 5 costs 5 points). Most mortals have attributes between 0-2, powerful ones have attributes 1-5. Very few mortals have attributes above 5. Stats above 10 are veritably godlike.
Besides stats, the only things you can spend points on are:
Occult Power - spending an amount of points equal the amount to have a given attribute, you can distribute that many points to your attributes temporarily by spending an amount of MP equals to the cost of the occult power. You could increase HP temporarily as well (but not MP) by an amount equal the cost in points. In case you choose to only increase HP, you can decide to use less MP than the maximum.
Ex. You have Occult Power 12. For a cost of 68 Mana, you can distribute an extra 12 points on any attribute that you want. It lasts 1 hour. So suppose you have Strength 10. You can increase your strength to 22. Or you could distribute your points in other attribute. Or you could increase your HP by up to 680, or a fraction if you don't wanna use 68 Mana.
Empower: works the same as Occult Power, but only on other people. The mana cost is the same and the effect lasts 24 hours. You can double the costs to double the duration, up to 5 times (for 32 times the cost and 32 days of duration).
Ex. You have empower 10 for 40 points. You could increase a person all atributes by 2 for a day for 80 MP. Or you could do it for 32 days for 1280 MP.
also choose a name, a gender and what are you a deity of
You are Ben Parker, super-powered criminal and thief extraordinaire. After being bitten by a radioactive spider, you underwent a miraculous change, and adopted the identity of "The Huntsman"! But it's not all bad! Your clone brother, Abel Parker, works to protect the city, and potentially help clean up some of your messes. <span class="mu-i">He</span> goes by the name of "Spider-Man"!
Last time: After Ben and Ana thwart a candy-themed crook, and Ben is entrusted with a gumball that's meant to psychically implant a memory into his head, Cindy Moon finds her life turned upside down when a black dog comes looking for her, bringing news that her grandmother is alive and requests her assistance. But before she even gets a chance to visit her, Cindy is attacked and kidnapped by a new and mysterious organization known as "Cradle", that employs the use of young superheroes to do their dirty work. And to Cindy's surprise, she discovers that her mother is not only alive, but she's actually running this organization!
Ben, still under the impression that Cindy was in mortal danger, managed to convince the Kaiju King to summon his ward down to Monster Metropolis. And Cindy, now ripped from her mother's grasp once more, is left with the staggering realization that she possesses the spiritual power of a particularly dangerous fox demon.
How will Cindy's life change from here? Can she trust her family, or even her own patron god, not to hide the truth from her? Will Ben be able to protect her from Skul and his army of monsters?
Find out more in the latest issue of…<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">MAXIMUM SPIDER QUEST!</span></span>
Rules: Most dice rolls will be 1d100. Modifiers will be added depending on the situation or on the alien being used(Usually +10 or -10). Crit successes and crit fails apply. Crit fails can be overridden by crit successes, but crit failures cannot override crit successes.
How to Roll: To roll dice, type “dice+1d100” in the options field without the quotations. To roll dice with positive modifiers, type “dice+1d100+modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number. To roll dice with negative modifiers, type “dice+1d100+-modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number.
For generations, the Kingdom of Lindan has been under siege by an otherworldly threat, that of demons. Hailing from a barbarous and unusual land and with skills that defy all magic, science, and logic, known as <span class="mu-s">Cheat Skills, these Strangers all have the capabilities of bringing on the end of all times if they use their talents improperly. As such, an organization was formed, known as the Inquisition, to combat these hellspawn and send them back from the depth they’ve come from…
Currently, however, there’s one small issue. That being said, you happen to be both a Stranger and an Inquisitor. You are Asher Riven and while normally you’d be babysitting the seemingly much more important Princess Lorina de Lindan, it’s about half a decade too early for her to join the Inquisition and she's probably too busy whimsically frolicking in the blissful ignorance of still thinking her fiance, the one she always keeps raving about, loves her you’re stuck at a minor noble party in a creepy backwater fishing village. Yippee...</span>
You were reincarnated into another world, got overpowered cheat skills, and were surrounded by hot women. Pretty bog standard isekai stuff, but you wouldn't change this life for anything.
Instead of spending your empty days alone in your room, you found purpose in this new life as a tinkerer and a pilot. Gone was your fear of intimacy, your wife carrying your child inside of her as the ultimate proof of that conquest. Also you had six wives, and they all happened to be your happily consenting slaves.
Hey, that's just how this world worked, you (probably) didn't make the rules. Your first wife did, along with the rest of the universe. Her name is Herta--the Goddess of Artifice and Creation--and she was the biggest masochist you knew. Despite all her quirks (and almost paradoxical arrogance) she was still your first wife and closest companion, happily following your every order. All of your wives obeyed and desired you, but none went as far as your cute goddess.
Yeah, life is pretty good.
===
You're in the middle of working yourself to a sweat, Lunacy Savantae giving you the energy and inspiration to create great things. You had already made a mech, a point of pride for you. Sadly it was locked in your estate's dock, too large to carry along. It might not be a terrible idea to make an airship specifically designed to carry it someday... Anyway, you used iron ingots--provided kindly by your fit catgirl wife, Cattleya--and other materials for your latest creation: an airship.
(Used up 1,300lbs of metal ingots to create the airship)
(1,000lbs of scrap turned to ingots from Cattleya's work)
It's a beautiful vessel, one that you've been working tirelessly to form. You probably wouldn't have enough ingots to finish it were it not for the technical improvements done by Ruby Rose, another wife of yours and a self-proclaimed mastermind schemer (although privately you'd come to realize most of her plans tended to fall flat on her face from her love of overthinking things).
On it's sides are small retractable clockwork cannons that pop out of the hull. A larger, more intimidating, iron cannon on the deck could be manually manned. It didn't compare to the BoatMech's firepower but they were a good deterrent for any enemies you might happen to encounter.
Small pods with retractable propellers acted as lifeboats, just in case you all needed to be evacuated.
It was designed to be large enough to comfortably hold wives, guests, food, and cargo to sell. Of these products you'd mostly brought cotton, textiles, clothing, iron, and the giant pearl (mostly to get it appraised rather than sold, since it was a gift from a friend). A few clankers and some automatic sewing machines Herta made were brought along as well.
Finally, it was done. Though you couldn't celebrate yet, you still had to leave for the Centrian City.
<span class="mu-s">WELCOME TO THE AMERICAN FEVER DREAM.</span>
Have you ever heard such an eye-catching phrase? The poster before you certainly draws the attention of anyone who notices it. It's endearing, even. Yet you are filled with regret every time you look at it --- the landmine loaded with high-explosive cynicism could blow up in your face if you let your gaze linger upon it for too long.
You walk backwards, plunk yourself down into your office chair, and let out a long exhale out of deep relief, having finished moving the last of the boxes to your new Office in District P. Your wandering eyes drift upwards, following your invisible breath as one would follow a rising trail of cigarette smoke. Sometimes, it's important to mindlessly contemplate the eroticism of ceiling tiles. And some other pleasant-sounding nonsense.
You are <span class="mu-s">JOHN SMITH</span> or, to put it another way, <span class="mu-g">MISTER ANONYMOUS.</span> Your name is not terribly important these days.
But, in the gaze of others, the work that you do has earned you the moniker of a <span class="mu-s">TROUBLESHOOTER.</span> Someone who finds trouble, and shoots it.
You do not have problems, but you have solutions.
So your sought-after peace of mind is fleeting. There are clients to be heard, work to done, rent to be paid, and you hate the future for holding the power of expectations over you.
The man known as Marik shook his head, eyes blinking. “We have a confirmed nuclear detonation on force Center.”
“I can see it, Nero.” The visual feeds had corrected for the flash, filtering and darkening it so that he could look upon the growing cloud.
His second was already pushing the command mech back to its feet, standing it again as an elite pilot does. Not in the first wave, only an idiot leads directly from the front, but his position in the third wave, the reserves, was carefully planned for.
He could bring them where they were needed most, to drive forwards wherever the push had faltered or where a weakness had been sighted. Or more realistically, wherever the hell his best guess was, if everyone was operating in the dark.
Though that darkness had just lifted with an enormous flash.
He had watched Kinston’s superheavy stagger beneath concentrated firepower right before the Plaza of Heroes, before returning fire and charging into smoke. His attention had wavered after then, but add to that the proximity of the Senate building, tantalizingly close, and the bastards in power proved again that there was no line they wouldn’t cross in order to try and crush his rebellion.
The Old Man deserved the Imperial Cross for his sacrifice, he mentally noted. And a promotion. Posthumously, of course. No one objects to a dead man being promoted above them.
But it was a good thing he had withdrawn the remainder of Crimson lance before that final push. A smart commander took care of his loyal pieces, and there weren't many queens left to use.
“I’m not getting any traces of jamming. Just residual interference from the blast. Are we still pressing forwards, sir?” His second asked from the piloting seat.
“Forwards. We make the most of this. They’re not going to expect a fresh force attacking through their own blast wave, after all.”
Turning back would be admitting defeat, and certain death. No matter the losses, he had to win here.
